Dark Paradise
by M.A. Federico
Summary: Lucy has escaped death at the hands of GARM, but the director is not yet prepared to let her go free yet. He has scores of servants at his disposal to retrive Lucy. If they want to live, the residents of Kaede Inn will have to fight an underground war.


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_He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you._

_-Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 146_

**PROLOGUE**

The Director stared into the night. It had been raining for a week, ever since Lucy escaped his grasp. Even more importantly, Kuruma had found a way to never be a part of GARM ever again. Instead of life, he chose death. Even more unfortunate, he took Silpelit number thirty five along with him. Two valuable resources, wasted.

What a fool, he snickered.

He tightened his grip. Thirty five was in no way the last resort he would use to have Lucy return to complete her duty as the daughter of the Mother-God. Thirty five was simply the first wave – Kakuzawa had dozens of other servants at his disposal to handle Lucy, and to remove number seven.

In fact, the next one was on its way from the so called land of the free. Kakuzawa sent the request two days ago - it should be here any minute. How ironic, Kakuzawa pondered, that the very country that boasted of liberty and justice for all was in fact the very first country to fund the CERBEREUS project…a project that was based off of torturing so called children in order to advance the knowledge of the barbarous Diclonius.

The world was full of ironies.

Suddenly, the wooden doors that led to the Director's office, which might as well have been called his home, since he is never seen out of it, opened wide. Four security guards entered, along with an aid. A steel pod slowly hovered in, with the shaking form of its captive sealed away inside of it. All but the creature's head was completely covered, and even then one would have trouble noticing any distinguishable features of the victim: it was completely covered in bonds and fitted with a restraining mask all too similar to the one Lucy wore.

There was one thing that could be noticed on the creature, however: demonic horns protruding from the side. Not curved like the ones of the female Diclonius, but sharp and thin. It was a man.

The pod slowly creaked upward, so that its captive could face the Director. The Director, with the same face of malice he would show to even his now dead son, nodded. The security guards unhooked the mask, and quickly released the bonds. They produced a man, if Diclonius could even be considered human, in his early twenties. His face was hard, but with the hint of some humanity. His hair was a dark red, an eerie reminder of the constant activities of his kind.

Originally his head was dipped down, but slowly he rose to face the Director.

Then he yawned.

"My god, why do you always have to have the copters be so bumpy? I mean, seriously Kakuzawa, it is simply _not_ a good first impression."

The older man snarled. "This is hardly a first impression."

"True, but it's been, like what, four years? I was expecting a grand party to celebrate my glorious return…"

"You're _return, _Alex, is hardly glorious, nor is it wanted! But certain events have demanded your immediate assistance."

"My Lucy escaped, right?" Alex smirked in a tone as if he knew all along what was happening.

"And she is very good at staying out of our grasp. But we do not want you to capture her."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What exactly do you have in mind?"

"It is time to start the evolution."

The Diclonius sighed as much as his metal cage would have permitted him to. "Several years ahead of schedule, aren't we?"

"We have no choice. Will you do it, or will I have to send more prominent scum to finish the task?"

"Well now, let me think me about this…" With that, the sarcastic began to hum the Jeopardy tune, much to the Director's annoyance. He preferred Lucy's cold malice to this scumbag's humor: he could better relate with her than this fool. But by some perverted chance of fate, their two DNAs were perfect for mating, for creating the ultimate Diclonius. Thus, for the past ten years the two were prepared for the mating process. Alex was invaluable to the success of CERBEREUS. "All right, I'll help. On one condition, though."

"You are hardly one to be giving demands."

"Yeah, well, there's also the fact that I am the best one suited for the task. According to your tests, I have a three out of ten chance of survival. Everyone else is just one."

The Director growled. "How do you know about these tests? They were confidential."

"Come now, you don't give me enough credit! I mean, if vectors can through people like they were veggies, it can't be so hard to use them to read minds, now is it?"

Kakuzawa scowled. How he hated Alex! If it weren't for his DNA, he would have found himself choking on his own blood years ago. "Name your price."

"You let us two live peacefully. You'll get your evolution."

Kakuzawa chuckled. "Very well then. You will have your _peace_. Give me my evolution."

"Okie-dokie" the Diclonius winked.

* * *

The raining was ferocious. Alex was clothed in a black business suit, with him holding several luggage bags, most of them via his three vectors. His long hair was tied into a pony tail, albeit a messy one. Most of his hair was shaven as well, given the look of a classy seventies spy. He had a pair of sun glasses on to cover his eyes from the rain. The helicopter hummed through the night sky as it slowly landed.

Admits the down pour and occasional beating of thunder, Alex heard familiar and all too comforting footsteps approach: a scientist, in her fifties, clutching onto several items.

He turned to face her, a warm smile on his other wise pale face. "Hey mum."

Of course, the man was not being literal: his biological mother was long dead. But for the past eleven years, ever since his capture, this woman had acted as good as any mother could have, even if she was always behind a sheet of glass. But through that one sheet of glass she had encouraged him, raised him, taught him, and mothered him.

It was because of her that Alex did not become some sadistic murderer that lost all grips of reality, a story heard of all too well in the facility.

"It's good to see you again Alex," she smiled.

"Same," he sighed. The foster mother slipped some items into her would be son's free hand: a bible and a gothic cross necklace.

"Will you pray every night?"

"I try, mom."

The woman sighed. "You sure you want to do this, Alex?" She was being more direct than usual. She was troubled, and rightfully so.

"I've don't got a choice. It's my…path."

"You don't have to do anything, Alex. It's not right that my…son has to be the one to start this cursed 'evolution' of his."

"I'm not going to stop. And that's final. No buts about it…I - I am going to do this."

"Just let God help you." She sighed, knowing her child was too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

Alex groaned. "Aw, come on Mom, you know how corny that sounds. Not even Pastor Bill sounds like that!" Even though he had never seen her pastor, Alex was capable enough in using his vectors to read minds that he could recreate nearly all of the Californian man's sermons. It was almost as if the Diclonius was there himself.

"I know, I know, but, well, just stay good."

"I try," he said, choking back some tears, knowing this will be their final conversation. "I've always enjoyed our conversations." His foster mother nodded approvingly.

Tears slipped down the woman's cheek. "Take care of yourself, Alex."

"I always do," he reminded her before he hugged her.

"Good bye, Alex."

"Not goodbye mom." He kissed her on the cheek. "Just see you later."

With that, he departed.

* * *

"You know, if you were more organized, cleaning wouldn't take this long!" Yuka, the ever present slave driver of the Kaede Inn, folded her arms in a commanding manner. "If you take much longer, you are going to miss lunch!" She was yelling at her cousin from across the hall. He was supposed to do some organizing of the Kaede Inn while she would do all of the dusting.

She heard no reply.

"Kouta?"

"I know!" yelled the raven haired Kouta from across the hall. Confident that her cousin was not being truthful at all on the matter, she stomped into his room. She found the Lilium music box playing its majestic tune, and Kouta staring down at his open hands, a sea shell laying idly in it.

"What's the matter?" Yuka asked concerned knowing full well who Kouta was thinking about. She felt no aggression against the memory, though. She was a welcomed member of the Inn…whoever she chose to be.

"Oh, it's nothing," he lied. He then put the sea shell in the empty music box.

* * *

Something, or someone, was drawing her. For days, she had been wandering the streets, almost aimlessly, as if she was an empty shell. Without a purpose, even if it was just to kill, God's creatures devolve into nothing but mindless beings. And for many days, Lucy had no purpose. After her last horn was ripped to pieces, her meaning on the cruel globe seemed to be lost; when it was ripped off, the mental image that kept her alive throughout that battle, the image of Kouta welcoming her home, vanished.

The physical pain proved too great. It felt like her head was being split into two…even just moving her head even the slightest caused immense pain in her spine. So, she kept her head low, her violet eyes staring downward towards the ground. Not even her hands swung as she walked.

For the longest time, she simply was. She sought no purpose, nor did she ever look for a desire. She was a wandering spirit.

But then, she remembered: the reason she was living.

And at that moment, that empty shell had a soul breathed into it.

Lucy rose her head. She still wore the same clothes that she wore during the battle: that pink shirt that ended at her elbows and black dress. But both of them were torn beyond recognition. No one could have seen that they were once beautiful pieces of attire. Her entire body was stained with various degree of scarlet. She was covered in mud, and some twigs were caught in her hair. She heard the constant buzzing of flies.

But she was alive. And if she was alive, she would find her home. And then, she would find Kouta.

She smiled, ignoring the terrified glances that pointed her way. She was going home.

* * *

In the kitchen, Nana and Mayu were hard at work preparing dinner. "You're getting better already, Nana," the Diclonius' friend said encouragingly.

"Oh please. Anyone could make noodles."

"That's true," Mayu agreed as she brought the pot over to the counter. "But at least this time they weren't burnt."

"Hey!" Nana protested, who was hard at work chopping the vegetables for the meal. "That's mean!"

Mayu said nothing though, as she poured the noodles into a bowl. Nana just smiled, and continued chopping.

* * *

By then, the two eldest occupants of the Kaede Inn were out on the pantry. Khouta was sitting in an arm chair, staring into the storm as if he was expecting something abnormal to happen. Yuka was setting up the table. Hearing five clumps, Kouta turned to face his cousin. "Y'know, you put out an extra bowl."

"I know," she smiled. "But I though it would be nice. You know, having her here."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He rose up, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna take a nap."

"All right…" she said softly. For a whole week, Kouta had been separating himself from the family that he had created, almost as if they weren't good enough. She knew that wasn't the real reason why he had been so lonesome as of late, but his refusal to indulge in conversations longer than a single word seemed to make those fears very plausible. Just as irritated as she was worried about him, she sighed when he shut the porch door.

* * *

A horde of black umbrellas shadowed the market square, shading their users from being drenched by the rain. Their business was their own – a good deal of them were business men and women on break from the trifling hours of being in the office, and were having lunch in one of the more modern style restraunts. Another fair amount of the pedestrians were mothers taking their child out to do errands.

All saw and stared as the walking corpse that was Lucy walked past them, her bloody hair covering her left eye, while the right scarlet orb stared ever outwards. Many gasps and murmurs could be heard from the crowd. Some suggested that she must be some maniacal murderer, while others that she was the carrier of some horrible disease.

All different variations of the same story and all were true.

A few children among the crowd were brave enough to point the woman out to their mothers. Some confessed their fear of the woman, while a rare few suggested that they help the lady. The protest would go back and forth between mother and child, with the mother suggesting some treat for being quiet, while the child giving naïve and immature reasons as to why to help the wandering woman. In the end, the result was the same: the child eventually gave in.

Lucy heard most, if not all, of the discussions regarding her. She could care less about what they thought of her, if they cared for her or not. She was going to where she knew where people would be concerned about her, where they would gladly help her.

The world, for all she cared, could just rot.

* * *

When Kouta finally reached his room, he collapsed like a dead man onto his bed. He could only think of that girl that left him a week ago. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop think of Lucy. Even though she was the one that killed his sister and dad, even though she was the cause of so much pain, even though he could never forgive her, he just could not stop thinking about her. No matter how hard he tried, that pink haired beauty was always at the front of his mind.

Was this love?

A mental image of the kiss on the stairwell that overlooked the sea appeared in his mind. He felt his cheeks blushing. That image, that one scene that was burnt into his mind, made him feel so good in his heart.

If this was love, if this was _true_ love, not some impossible fantasy, then he never wanted it to go away again. It felt too good to be taken away. Like the first time he felt the sun's rays on his skin, he didn't think he could live on without the emotion again. But more than anything, he wanted to see her, if for only a chance just to see her smile one last time.

Someone knocked on his door. "Kouta", Yuka said from behind the door, "lunch is ready!"

Minutes later, lunch was underway, with Nana sipping up her first noodles. "Yummy!" she announced, licking her lips as she dipped another set of noodles into sauce.

"That's right: this is your first time eating soumen noodles"

"Yeah, I couldn't be here the first time you served them-" Everyone else sighed; it had been a week since the…incident. Since Nyuu, or more accurately, Lucy, was seen.

A few tears dripped down from Nana's pink eyes. "There are just so many wonder full things in this world…so many good things…"

"Nana..." Mayu interrupted.

"Oh, ah, I'm sorry!", the Diclonius apologized, wiping away her tears. "Let's eat!" With that, she reached across the table to put some more noodles in her bowl.

"That's right," Yuka agreed. "You need to eat more if you want to grow up to be healthy."

Suddenly, the barking of Wanta could be heard from across the old inn. "Huh?" Yuka pondered. "Is someone at the gate?"

Kouta rose. "I'll go check."

By the time he reached the front gate, Wanta's barks were becoming more frequent, but there wasn't the sense of any sort of aggression or offense in its tone. Kouta slipped on some shoes that were lying by the open door.

Suddenly, the grand father clock rung.

"Huh?" he said, turning to face the home. "It's working?"

And almost by divine intervention, the storm passed almost immediately. Although chances were that it was slowly dissipating over the hour, it was gone at the exact moment the grandfather clock rung. Kouta began to wonder if he was in the Twilight Zone, considering the paradox of the situation.

The door slipped open. Kouta slowly turned to face the visitor.

He found a bleeding, and hornless, Lucy, shivering from the past storm, but still smiling none the less.

"N-Nyuu?" he stuttered. Was it really her? Was this a dream?

The flower petal that landed on his face told him that it wasn't. This was reality.

The Diclonius only smiled as he approached.

She was home.

And then she collapsed into his arms.

"Nyuu!" the concerned college boy screamed. Lucy was cold, and it wasn't from her being in the rain for so long. She was bleeding all over…was she dieing? Was she going to live past the day?

Lucy didn't hear his scream of concern. The darkness had already taken over.


End file.
